The Wheat Field
by Dawn Tango
Summary: Everything is going wrong. Zoey's soul is trapped in the Otherworld and her bestie Stevie Rae has to deal with the red fledgling that tried to kill her-permanently. Not to mention her utterly confusing Imprint with Rephraim...T for now, spoilers


**Part One**

**Author: **Dawntango

**Pairings: **Zoey/Stark, Stevie Rae/Dallas/Rephraim (yes, the birdboy)

**Warnings: **Just a bit of language in this chapter, so we'll make it T, kay?

**Notes: **Hmm, my first HON fanfiction...a continuation of Tempted but I'll leave Burned to the Casts. Review-they brighten my day!

_Stevie Rae_

As Lenobia and Eric pulled her from the shelter of the earth, Stevie Rae knew that nothing would ever be the same. Her blistered hands screamed but it was nothing to the pain of when she had been burning, before she had drunken Rephraim's blood.

But now the numbness was gone.

They laid her on the grass, shielding her from the cruel sun. The last thing she remembered was Lenobia's voice, saying words she didn't understand, as she applied something that soothed to her burns.

Stevie Rae woke in darkness. Immediately her eyes adapted to the dimness and she realized she was in the basement of the House of Night. A hasty effort appeared to have been made to make it liveable and Lenobia smiled at her from the chair she was slumped in beside Stevie Rae's bed.

But fuck, she hurt! She was on her side-whoever had tended to her had seen the damage to her torn and blistered back.

"You're awake," Lenobia said with relief in her voice.

"Yeah," Stevie Rae thought that her voice sounded odd, rough, scratchy.

"How do you feel?"

"Bloody sore, but I'll live." She knew she would too, Rephraim's blood had done wonders.

_Shit! Rephraim! _Hiding her anxiety was difficult-Stevie Rae would never win a Logie. The only consolation was the fact that she knew he was as well as he could be.

"We were worried that you would die, from the depth of Aphrodite's pain," Lenobia said, "Zoey was out of her mind."

"What time is it?"

"Eight pm."

Stevie Rae forced herself up, hissing as her burnt flesh protested.

"What are you doing?" Lenobia demanded.

"I gotta do stuff, like ring Zoey," She gasped, "And to be honest, standin' will be less painful."

"If you say so, Priestess," Lenobia sounded dubious. It was still _really _wierd to hear her old professors call her a High Priestess, with respect in their voices.

It was still an effort to move, to retrieve her phone and call Zoey, who swallowed her lie whole. It said something, Stevie Rae thought wryly, that Z believed she'd been so stupid.

After a long moment of standing in the middle of their room, staring at her cell and wishing briefly that Zoey was with her she went to find supplies for Rephraim. It was almost too easy to nick some food and bandages, stuff everything into a bookbag and sneak out of the House of Night-not that anyone would question her anymore. The poor, fallen tree Z had knocked over with her earth affinity helped.

The moon was full, shining with an eerie light down on dark Tulsa. Feeling abnormally skittish her eyes darted from shadow to shadow and her gait became that of a defensive predator.

"You're are child of the bloody night," She hissed at herself, "Get it together already." But her nerves were stretched taut by the time she reached the museum and the house that she'd hidden Rephraim in. Quickly she surveyed the area, a nervous habit left over from the dark times. No threat, her senses told her, just the tiniest hint of Raven Mocker that no red fledgling would smell.

Warily she slipped through a hole where the boards blocking the house up had been pulled away. Once her eyes adjusted she followed Rephraim's scent and found him sitting in what had once been the loungeroom. The only light was a candle, flickering weird shapes over the dust.

"Rephraim," She said calmly and his scarlett gaze met hers.

"Stevie Rae," He shifted, "You are in pain." Her lips twitched.

"So are you," She pointed out. She quickly unpacked the food and began the agonising job of biunding his wing. They were both panting from the pain by the time she was done. She thought it was a pity he wasn't a vampyre, and then she could've given him blood and he would've been right as rain.

"Dang, that musta hurt when Darius shot ya outta the sky," she exclaimed.

"It did," He said drily, "Next time you should let me die." She glared at him.

"That would most likely kill me too, you oversized pidgeon!" Rephraim gave something very like an indignant squawk. Neither of them spoke for a while. The Raven Mocker began browsing through the food she'd brought, muttering to himself so lowly not even her hearing could pick it up.

At last he said, "I'm not a pidgeon." She shot him a cold look and attacked a packet of chips. How dare he talk of dyin' after all she'd done to keep him alive!

The silence starched longer before Rephraim said quietly, "I apologise Stevie Rae."

"Just don't go dyin' on me, kay?"

"Yes," But he gave a wry chuckle, "We are in a great deal of-what do you say?"

"Shit."

"We are in a great deal of shit," He finished. Great, now she was teaching Raven Mockers to swear.

"Yeah, we are."


End file.
